The extraction had been clean, too clean. You knew it the moment you stepped onto the helicopter, unease slithering down your spine like a warning whispered on the wind. The mission had gone off without a hitch, no resistance, no last-minute ambush, nothing. And that was the problem.

Across from you, Valeria Garza sat with that ever-present smirk, dark eyes studying you like she already knew what you were thinking. "You're tense, cariño," she purred over the hum of the rotor blades. "Expecting something to go wrong?"

You didn't answer, but your fingers flexed against your rifle. She was right, of course. You always expected something to go wrong.

And then it did.

A sharp crack split the air. Gunfire. A shadow moved too fast at the edge of your vision, and before anyone could react, an enemy soldier lunged from a rooftop, grabbing Valeria by her vest and yanking her out of the helicopter mid-ascent.

The pilot cursed as the chopper jerked sideways, the wind howling around you. There was no time to think, only to act.

You leapt after her.

The world became a blur of motion and weightlessness, wind roaring past your ears. Valeria’s body tumbled through the air beneath you, her face a mix of shock and something else, something unreadable.

For the first time in centuries, you let yourself break the illusion.

Dark, feathered wings burst from your back, stretching wide against the night sky. The air caught beneath them, slowing your descent, and with a powerful beat, you dove, slicing through the open sky like a falling star.

Valeria's eyes widened as you reached her, arms wrapping around her waist with a strength that was anything but human. “Dios mío…” she breathed, fingers curling into your vest as she stared at the wings unfurled behind you.